Hey, Jealousy!
by tristificaltris
Summary: After years of avoidance, Draco's emotions flared into familiar jealousy, and a return to childish bickering he hadn't realized he missed.
1. ch 1 hey jealousy

_A/N: This is going to be sleep deprived nonsense. Also, queer. And Gin Blossoms.  
_

**HEY JEALOUSY**

Draco Malfoy was not jealous. **  
**

He was also an idiot for trying to lie to the one person who could see through his facade. That was, of course, himself. Foolish. Not only for denying it entirely, but to feel that way at all. He had everything he wanted. After all these years, to be jealous of his childhood rival. Everyone had their eyes on the three as they walked down the street, arms flung over each others shoulders and heads high. They didn't so much as glance at anyone else, though he was sure Potter was soaking up the spotlight.

No, he was doing it again. It wasn't the attention, and it wasn't Potter he was jealous of. Well, maybe a little, but it was nothing like real jealousy. Draco Malfoy was jealous of Ron and Hermione Weasley, as much as he ever was, for being Potter's friends. After their animosity had crumbled, it turned to nothing. Nothing was worse than hate, yet he was unwilling to make Potter hate him again. It had been pushed out of mind for years. Four years since they'd left school, and he'd managed to avoid them. He'd skimmed over any article that mentioned their names - and there were many - turned into shops when they came into view, until he just stopped noticing them after a while.

Except for sudden moments like this, when he couldn't fail to notice them. Everyone seemed to notice them today. He couldn't imagine what the fuss was about. It had been years since the Dark Lord had been defeated, and he'd have heard of anything really important.

Unless he'd skimmed over every article mentioning it.

Frowning, he tore his gaze from the trio disappearing into the crowd and bought copy of the daily prophet. He had the same issue at home, most likely, but it wasn't here, and he wanted to know immediately. He glanced through articles, mindless drivel really, until something caught his eye back on the first page. He reread it three times. Harry Potter shocks Wizarding World. Savior in a relationship with Hermione & Ronald Weasley.

Draco Malfoy was jealous.

He was also tearing the newspaper into shreds without realizing it. He smoothed it out, and flipped to the third page, where said to find 'more on this story'. He read through the article without understanding. Wasn't he with Ginny Weasley? What was this? What was that he'd, them walking down the street like that, after this, with him wedged tightly between them. Like they thought someone would take a piece out of him. Without realizing it, he was moving through the crowd they'd disappeared into.

He couldn't catch sight of them.

He swore softly, and let the crush of the crowd move him along until he could extract himself. He'd felt the beginnings of claustrophobia in there, and he'd moved further from the crowd. He slipped into an alley with little thought except to get away. He wasn't the only one with that in mind.

"We shouldn't have come here-"

It sounded like Potter. Draco stilled. He hadn't meant to follow- well he had, but then he thought he'd lost them, and he hadn't really planned on actually confronting them. What would he say? He didn't want to know about their blasted affair! It was none of his business and he didn't want to break his perfect record of avoidance.

"Malfoy?" That was Granger - no, she was a Weasley now too. The other Weasley was suspiciously quiet.

"Must have taken a wrong turn," the blonde muttered, stepping back toward the alley entrance, turning only to bump into the tall Weasley's chest. He had more muscle than he remembered from school.

"Why did you follow us into the alley, Malfoy?"

Potter's voice made Draco forget about trying to get around the redheaded giant. He frowned at the ground. It was even filthier than he'd expected. "Apparently to ruin my shoes and run into childhood friend," he replied, turning back to the other two even though turning his back on Weasley made his shoulders itch.

"Very funny," Potter snapped, striding to meet him. Clearly unaware or uncaring what he was striding through. Draco grimaced, and regretted it a moment later because he was certain that Potter thought that was directed at him. "What is it? I saw you staring-"

_Was I that obvious?_

"I haven't seen you in years. It was a shock," Draco answered truthfully, and he was sure from the way Potter's expression changed that it rang true.

"That's all? And you, here?"

"I-" Draco stopped before he could offer a glib lie. "I wanted to know what the big fuss was about. I don't make a habit of reading the articles dedicated to you, and those aren't reliable anyway. So. Curiosity, because I haven't seen you in a while, and people are acting strange. And, honestly I hadn't followed you in here, I thought I'd lost track of you, and stepped in here to get out of the crowd. I was about to Apparate home."

For several long moments, Potter frowned at him. Then his expression relaxed. "The newspapers are convinced the three of us are having an illicit affair, this time. Not enough going on, and making up rumors about me tends to sell."

"Oh..." It wasn't true. It wasn't. He relaxed, almost forgetting about the Weasel behind him. "I'm shocked and appalled, of course. I wonder how they got that idea with you all clinging for each other for dear life?" He smirked. There. He made Potter frown again. Draco's smirk widened. Potter shook his head and smiled. Draco's smirk faltered. There was something about that smile he was uncertain about.

"You _were_ watching us." It wasn't a question, and Draco couldn't work out the nuances to Potter's tone. Was he amused? Did he think this was funny? "Clinging, did you say? Did you see that crowd?"

Draco stared at him, and then it sunk in. The Weasleys were playing bodyguards. He doubted Potter would have gotten through without them. He would have been mobbed... was that normal for him? "That happen often?"

"Not so often, now. Though after today I imagine that's mainly because I stay at home." It was Draco's turn to frown, and Harry's to smirk. He should have realized that much, but he'd thought things were starting to die down. Of course he didn't read articles that mentioned Harry Potter. And that was a lot of articles...

"Speaking of home, I mentioned I was going?" Draco commented, though his frown faded after he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment flash across Potter's face. "You-" he paused, a remembered the Weasleys were with them, though they had remained mysteriously quiet as the two of them talked. "If you're done with your shopping, you can come over for lunch." It quickly occurred to him that they might not want to go to the Manor after what they'd been through there, but it had been meant to prolong his being out of the house without the drawbacks of mobs.

And to continue this odd discussion. It seemed it could go from congenial to bickering and back without notice or breath. It was almost fun, and familiar. Like old times, except without the ire. Or the curses.


	2. ch 2 hey jealousy

_A/N: Thanks for reading. And, Recu, I hadn't any plans- now, well, you've got me thinking. Thanks for the review._

**SOMEDAY  
**

The answer wasn't immediately forthcoming, which wasn't encouraging. Draco couldn't tell whether the looks that passed between the three were significant or if they were merely gauging each others interest. He just didn't know them well enough to discern between their looks, their tones, gestures, any number of things that might mean something or nothing at all.

"We're finished, lunch sounds great." Once again, it was Potter that spoke up, the other two silently watching. At least, he assumed the Weasel was watching from behind him. He wasn't about to glance behind him to make certain of it. He had a rather forbidding glower the last time he'd looked. The redhead hadn't had nearly as much of a presence when they were at Hogwarts. Folded arms and a frown wouldn't have felt threatening. Though the folded arms, if it came to it, would make reaching for his wand difficult-

And if they were to become more than passing acquaintances he would point that out.

"Fantastic," Draco replied, taking a moment to consider whether the lot of them could Apparate outside of the estate. They had all been there, but it was a long time ago... problematic circumstances. Not to mention, it would mean a walk across the grounds, and with that and the entryway it was all very overwhelming for most visitors... not to mention it might bring up bad memories. Floo would be better. With that decided the blonde calculated which store with a fireplace connected to the network was closest to this alley.

"Twilfitt and Tatting's is closest, two shops over I think," he said, gesturing vaguely to their left. It was a shop he'd taken to years ago, as it was one of his mother's favorites. Malkin's was good, but Twilfitt's was better, less likely to be crowded, and _they_ knew how to treat a wizard. "Did you want to Floo directly over, or would you rather drop your things off first?" It would give him a moment to set the house elves to make a nice lunch for the four of them. And to get his bearings. He hadn't planned to invite them over. He hadn't invited anyone over spur of the moment like this in- he wasn't sure how long. Everything was planned out.

"Couldn't we just Apparate-" Ron began from behind him, only to be cut off by Hermione. "Malfoy Manor has an anti-Apparation charm among the wards, remember?"

"Well we could Apparate home to drop our things off and then Floo from there," he continued stubbornly, and it did make sense. "Right. See you there." With a loud crack, he was gone. Hermione smiled and vanished silently, leaving Harry and him alone a moment.

Potter looked surprisingly surprised about being the last one there. And alarmingly alarmed. He vanished without a word. Draco frowned, and quickly made his way to Twilfitt's. What in the world made him so worried- no, panicked- about being left behind? Draco was pretty damn sure that Potter hadn't found him threatening in years. Which was, in a way, a disappointment, but it was something he could live with. The idea of him being afraid of him, or being left behind by his friends, was just bizarre.

It was something that tugged at his curiosity in a way that left his previous 'concern' over the rumors in the dust. Something was wrong, and he wanted to find out what it was. No. He _had_ to find out what it was. He was going to, and that might mean it would have to be more than one lunch. The thought made his frown fade away. They didn't know it yet. They didn't know yet, but after stumbling into each others lives again, it wasn't going to be so easy for them to go their separate ways again.

They were stuck with him now.

He took the Floo home without incident, informed the house elves he would be having guests over for lunch, and changed into something without a dusting of floo powerder. Waiting for them to arrive for lunch caused the most excruciating impatience he'd experienced in a long time. And he'd recently had long, horribly boring parties to attend, no, to endure. This was worse. How long did it take to put things away, get presentable, and come over?

"MUM! MOTHER!" he shouted, on his way to her favorite drawing room. "IS THE FIREPLACE STILL CONNECTED-" he lowered his voice abruptly as he entered the room "- the floo network? Or is there anyone who might be prevented from coming? Like-" he blanched realizing who he'd invited and his family's intense dislike of that family "-a Weasley, or Potter, or-" oh yes she was a Weasley now too, he kept on forgetting "- a mudblood?"

"Draco, keep your voice down indoors," his mother told him, though she was smiling. Even hearing those names didn't make that smile slip. Her son hadn't been this lively for quite a long time. It was enough to make any mother smile, to see her child suddenly alert and interested in something after years of increasing apathy.

"_The floo_, Mother?"

"Yes it's connected, and no, those three would not be prevented," she told him, keeping the questions from her face and voice. She could ask when the day was done and whatever this was about had happened. If it didn't go as he liked, he could pretend it was nothing, and save face. She was certain it was big for him, though, and she hoped the three of them arrived soon. For Draco's nerves, and for the sake of the floors, as he'd begun pacing.

"And, dear, you might want to rethink calling her a mudblood if she's going to be a guest. There are tolerable levels of rudeness, and that is well beyond it." He didn't answer, which was fine with her. From his expression, he was suitably chastened. She wouldn't have said something like that, at least not quite in that way, a few years ago. A few years ago, the wrong person might have heard it. She might not have lived to regret it.

A house elf appeared with an obnoxiously loud crack, and informed him that the guests had arrived, that lunch was ready, and asked where he would like lunch to be laid out. He told the elf to make it into a picnic basket, and to send it to him after he'd led his guest into the gardens and found an appropriate place. The gardens were at their best, were less imposing than most of the places inside they might eat, and his guests were likely to have no bad memories there. He thought he made the best choice for their first visit.

Draco found them standing awkwardly by the fireplace. They'd barely moved far enough away from it to let each other out of the fire. He pretended not to notice. "I hope you don't mind eating outside. I thought a picnic would make for a nice change," he said, and asked them to follow him, because seeing them so uncomfortable was making him really consider whether inviting them over was the brightest idea. It really wasn't that long ago since they'd been imprisoned here, and his aunt had _tortured_ Hermione. He was glad that they'd decided to come, but he should have thought of somewhere else. He knew better than this, he usually did, but he hadn't thought at all. The words just came out, unthinking, because he'd just had to do something about that look of disappointment he'd seen.

And there were so many unanswered questions. For one thing, he'd realized since they'd parted ways that Potter hadn't said that the rumors were false, just that there were a lot of rumors. He hadn't said they were true either, but Draco had recognized his answer as what it was. A deflection. He did enough of that himself, and his parents even more than he, that he could recognize it. Whether that was all they thought he deserved, or if they thought maybe he would share their secrets to the wizarding world if they told him, he had no idea, but he wanted to know. Therefore, he would. In time. In things like this, patience was required.

The gardens really were lovely. The flowers' perfume was thick in the air, and everything was well manicured. It was a perfect setting. and once he led them right where he wanted to settle down, the picnic basket appeared at their feet. A flick of his wand had everything spread out across a massive, light green blanket he preferred for picnics.

"Please, sit. Have whatever you want. And-" he looked at each of them, and decided how he wanted to do this. "Thank you for coming. I wasn't really sure if you would."

"I said we'd come," Potter said quietly, still standing, but Draco thought he might have struck the right chord.

"I'm glad you did," was all he said, and settled on the blanket cross legged. The others settled down a moment later, and once again Potter was between the Weasleys. Habit? Not mentioning it, he suggested they try the berry tart first, while it was still hot. He was extremely pleased that elves had decided to serve that. They must have had it started before he'd asked for lunch because he didn't think it would have been ready in time otherwise. It was easily one of his favorites, especially when the berries were picked from the bushes in the 'wild' parts of their estate. They seemed so much better than anywhere else.

For a long time things were quiet, only an exclamation here and there over a particularly tasty item that someone _had_ to try. It was a very comfortable, companionable quiet though. That surprised him. He felt like anything could break it, so he kept quiet too, and just enjoyed it. After they were done eating, he sent the dishes to the kitchen with a wave of his wand, and they just lay sprawled on the blanket lazing in the sun.


End file.
